OnE Operation : natus e
by Allison Jakes
Summary: **CHAP THREE**The Redeemer, Vaughn and Sydney's Child. The Second Prophecy begins... with O.n.E. [sequel to STORAGE ROOM SECRETS]
1. Return To Me

**Special Note:** O.n.E. : operation : natus e is the sequel to the 8-part series Storage Room Secrets.  Natus e is Latin, meaning "from birth" or "without birth".  It is highly recommended that you read the prequel before beginning this fic.

**Catch Phrase:** The Redeemer, Vaughn and Sydney's child.  The second prophecy begins… with O.n.E.

**Inspiring Lyrics:** "I'm sorry mama, I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to make you cry…" from "Cleaning out my closet" by Eminem

**Time:** just over 4 years after the ending of Storage Room Secrets  
  
**Setting:** Los Angeles, California  
  
**Recap:** SD-6 still alive and kicking, both Jack and Sydney continue to be double agents. Michael Vaughn still in deep-cover mission, which included a wedding complete with false wedding papers and false ceremony with attendants who believed it was a true wedding (including Will and Francie, who were honor attendants for Sydney). You can imagine what this entails: Vaughn and Syd live together, and over time their relationship/friendship has become strained due to the pressures of living together under false pretense. There are times duty and heart still war within each, which makes them question the ethics of living together and sometimes sleeping together. After that first time together, the words "I love you" have not passed from either Vaughn nor Syd. The question stands: Is all life fated? If so, this cannot be real... just a path previously set -- there are no choices... and no soulmates.  
  


  
*****So it begins… with an excerpt from Sydney's diary*****  
_  
I've asked myself a hundred times if I've done the right thing. I've laid out a path, constructed a plan, and everything's gone awry. I was born into a world of lies and am still in the process of uncovering them one after another. Following in the Bristow tradition, I too gave birth to a child... and introduced her to a world of illusion. In fact, I've even given her a name that means "illusion" (Maya).  Of course, born in a lie, she has two birth certificates. One that reads Maya Christina Vaughn, and another that reads, "Maya Christina Varanelli". There is no record of the first, and the second is the only in traceable existence... what a tangled web we weave, indeed...   
  
- S._  
  
*****Chapter One : R e t u r n . T o . M e*****

Jack Bristow watched as his granddaughter skittered across the grass, gleefully chasing a butterfly.  She was petite, like her mother, with unruly waves of impossible blonde hair, a gift from her father.  Over time, those curls would darken to a shade between Vaughn and Sydney's hair color, but for now, Maya was a blessed creation of the beauty of both parents.  Wide, sea-lost emerald eyes were framed with a ring of honey; she possessed pouty pink lips with rosy cheeks she tended to puff out when upset.

She tottered and giggled when she landed on her bottom, allowing the curious butterfly to circle around her halo of hair, and she squealed with delight when it landed briefly on her outstretched hand.

"Papa Jack!" she turned her big, bright eyes to him.  "Look!"

He smiled and nodded.  Somewhere along the line, he'd gone soft.  He knew it, but didn't show it often.  It was because of her, he thought.  Maya made him younger.  She offered life that sparkled and shimmered like it had when he was young and indulgent – willing to believe in dreams and love.  So much of that hope he used to have was evident in her every breath, in every glorious thing she did.  She was a child full of wonder, optimism, and innocence.

His smile faded as grim thoughts sprang from the well of memory.  Thoughts of a second prophecy, of a woman coming to take this child and use her for evil.  One day, the essence of everything that was Maya would be stripped and taken away ruthlessly, leaving her naked and drowning in the ocean of lies that composed all their lives.

_You'll only get Maya over my dead body_, Jack swore.

"Dad," Sydney leaned against the doorway, dressed in a tank top and jogging shorts.  "It's almost time for her nap.  You can bring her in."

Scooping up Maya and waving goodbye to the butterfly with her, Jack strode to the door, but noticed the wary look in Sydney's eyes.

"You're under 24-hour surveillance," he told her frankly.  "But I know it doesn't help the worry.  Just try to relax a little, enjoy spending time with your daughter."

Sydney looked to her father, then at her child.

After a beat, Jack added, "Don't make the same mistake I did.  You might live to regret it."

She opened the screen and gathered up Maya in her arms, then promptly placed her on the floor.  "Come on, honey, let's take a nap!"

Maya made a face, but dutifully followed after her mother to the room adjacent to her parents'.  Her tiny bed was covered with various dolls and stuffed animals, but she refused to sleep without them.  Sydney waited until she was curled in a ball around a spectacularly large and furry brown teddy Vaughn had bought her before quietly shutting the door.  She looked back to her father who had stepped into the hall behind her and tried to articulate her thoughts.

"You did the best you could with me, Dad.  Maybe I had a hard time admitting it in the past, but I look back now, and you did what you had to.  You worked, and when Mom… when she faked her death, we both grieved.  You didn't handle that with flying colors, but you did what you thought was best." She sighed heavily, walked into the pale yellow and white titled kitchen.  "I'm doing what I thought is best.  You know how hard it was for me to decide to keep her."

"If you gave her up for adoption, Irina could have found her easily and we might never have known."

"But keeping her with _me_." Sydney sat at the table and used one hand to support her head, pushing her hair off her forehead.  "I mean, it's like screaming out loud, 'Here she is!  Come get her'!" 

Jack pursed his lips together and took a seat across from his daughter.  "Maybe so, but it's the safest way to track her.  Both you and Vaughn are skilled and expertly trained agents.  You know what signs to look for, you know when you're being followed, when something doesn't fit.  You'd be the first to notice if anything was wrong, and you'd be the first to protect her from it."

Protection.  It was the word that had come to mind when she had picked up Maya from preschool earlier in the day.  Sitting in the passenger seat of the car, her feet barely dangling over the edge, and her hands busily arranging the dress on the doll "Uncle Willy" gave her last Christmas, Maya proudly announced, "Mommy, today I learned about big families."

Sydney grinned and glanced at her.  
  
Maya continued, "Mommy, how come I have papa Jack, but no nana Jack?"  
  
Immediately, her smile froze, but for Maya's benefit, she kept it in place.  She closed her eyes briefly and fought for words... how do you tell your four-year old that her grandmother is a world-wide threat to humanity? Not to mention a crude, heartless bitch who didn't give a care about her own daughter, and her only interest in her granddaughter is to further her own purposes...

"You don't have a nana, Maya."

"Why not?  Everyone else has a nana…"

"Because yours…" Sydney paused.  She had to protect her daughter, as much as possible, from the world of lies she had been born into – even if it was an impossibility, she had to try.  "…lives far, far away."

"So why doesn't she come see me?" On the verge of inspiration, she looked up hopefully.  "Or let's go see her."

"We can't, honey.  Your 'nana Jack', um, doesn't live on earth."

Maya's face fell.  "Oh." She said flatly.  "You mean she went to heaven."

Through clenched teeth and a plastic smile, Sydney nodded.

She had lied to her daughter to protect her, she reasoned.

So then her father spoke the truth.  The best protection Maya could receive would be from her family – all trained in espionage and retaliation tactics.  

Refusing to verbally agree, she stood and laid a hand on her father's shoulder momentarily.  Between them, some form of affection had become easier over the years.  The small gesture was meant to say thank you for all he had done for her as a child, and even now as he offered support and logic when hers was weak.

Jack waited until she had taken her hand back before he straightened the chair and cleared his throat.  Some habits were hard to break.  "Uh, well.  Since you don't seem to need me for anything else…"

"You can stay for dinner," she offered, standing over the stove and heating a deep pot glazed with cooking oil.  "I'm making Spanish rice and carne asada."

"Oh." He looked at the kitchen clock above the entrance.  4:37 pm.  He still had work to do.  "Thanks, but…"

She lifted a hand and stopped him there.  "You've got things to take care of."

The flat and pointed tone in her voice shocked him by how much it hurt.

"I didn't mean it like that," she corrected, wiping her brow in mild frustration.  "It's just I wish sometimes you would take a break.  You worry just as much as I do about Maya… maybe more because you worry about me too, and I wish you wouldn't."

"I don't worry about you," he defended.

She shot him a dubious look over her shoulder before turning back to fill the pot with rice.  "You know, I always knew when you were lying."

Surprisingly, Jack found himself beginning to smile until it broke into a full-blown grin, which she returned.  _It was a strange thing_, he concluded as he left the stylish home behind, _to be able to smile and joke again after so long_.

**{~}**

An evening at home would have done Vaughn's exhausted body a world of good.  Instead, he found himself buried behind mounds of printouts with junior officer Matthew Chavez in the LA headquarters.

Rubbing his eyes, trying to stay awake, Vaughn sighed and swallowed more of the god-awful coffee Matt had made.

"You make one hell of a cup of coffee," he choked out.

Matt grimaced.  "I know it's strong, sorry.  You should have told me you like it watered down."

"No," Vaughn set the cup down.  "I just hate coffee that's packed with a punch.  I only need enough to get by, not enough to stay up the rest of the week."

"Oh, come on," Matt tossed another folder aside.  "Take it like a man, Mike.  It'll put some hair on that chest of yours."

Laughing, Vaughn raised a brow and added more hazelnut-flavored creamer to his cup.  "I've got a decent amount of chest hair, thank you very much."

Matt shrugged.  "Maybe I'll ask Sydney one day."

Abruptly, Vaughn stopped laughing.  Eyes cast downward, he rummaged through the printouts until he found the stack he was looking for, and placed it inside another folder.  Saying nothing made the silence even more awkward for Matt, who stood to his left, trying to think of something else to say.

"Hey, sorry.  I didn't…"

"Yeah… no, it's fine."

"Okay… um, I mean, it's not my business or anything, but…." Hesitatingly, Matt filed another stack of papers and eyed the man who had become his friend and mentor.  "You know what?  Never mind.  Forget I said anything."

Vaughn stopped studying the files and set aside the new folder he put together on the latest missions regarding SD-6 and KGB activities.  Vaguely, he fidgeted with the wedding band wrapped around his finger, twisting it around restlessly.  To his right was a picture of the "family": Sydney, himself, and Maya.

The sunlight filtered through the shade of the surrounding massive oak trees and delicately splayed its rays over them.  Though they were both laughing at the incredibly "constipated" look Maya had on her face, there was a safe distance between them evident even in the photograph.  They both took joy and pride in their daughter, and both loved her with the core of their being… but the prophecy had done more than bring them a beautiful child… it had created a rift between them.

What life had been like before the prophecy was drastically different from what it had become.  Easy, laughing friendship was wrecked by a star-crossed destiny.  Companionable and comfortable kisses and minor flirtations were natural.  But now, they were forced to face the overwhelming evidence that fate had dealt them this hand and dictated their lives – down to the very detail of their daughter.  It made both Sydney and Vaughn uncomfortable, uneasy with the lack of choice.  What they felt for each other… or what they _had_ felt… had it been real?  Was it of their own making, not predestination?  Was it love?  Did it truly exist?

Previously, Vaughn thought he had the answers to such questions.  What he felt was real, tangible love.  He was in control of his destiny, perhaps not necessarily who he fell in love with, but surely how he handled the situation.  An age-old prophecy shattered those certainties, and left Vaughn feeling robbed, hollow, and unsure.

In response, he withdrew from his relationship with Sydney.  Maybe she wasn't what he thought she was, maybe she wasn't the woman he was in love with, maybe it was kind of like a magical spell or curse that had caused them to sleep together and to say the words "I love you".

And maybe not.

"Just ask, Matt." Vaughn stared just past the framed photograph, blinked, and faced him.

He jerked his head up and looked blankly at Vaughn.  "Ask what?"

"You're question about Sydney – about me and Sydney."

"Oh."  He cleared his throat loudly.  "Um… no, it's okay.  I don't need to know, it was kind of a stupid question anyway."

"I was always taught there was no such thing as stupid questions, just stupid answers.  Or something like that."  He shrugged carelessly.

"Well," Matt looked down and away before he continued.  "It's just that you were so in love with her four years ago.  I only wondered if you still are."

Pondering the answer to that, Vaughn glanced at a file sitting before him, flipped it open to a page with her snapshot and physical description on it.

Moments passed, and Matt added, "I told you it was a stupid question.  It's none of my business, Mike.  I really don't need to know – I was just curious, I guess."

Vaughn looked up, his eyes clear and sharp, contrasting with his tanned skin and sun-kissed hair.  "The answer is I don't know."

**{~}**

Yawning, Vaughn entered the house, hung his keys on the ring holder and slipped out of his coat.  Bemusedly, he spotted a large, single candle burning in the middle of the coffee table, the air in the living room becoming scented with vanilla bean and spice.  Sydney always did like to light candles when she wanted to relax.

Kicking off his shoes, he undid the buttons on his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.  There was something about tonight that called to him, made him want to pull out a glass of white wine, sit and think.  Retrieving a thin-stemmed wine glass from the cupboard, Vaughn filled it with '99 Puligny-Montrachet Les Chaps Canet.

He settled into the straw-colored sofa and lazily stretched one arm out over the couch and the other upon the armrest.  Using the remote, he programmed the stereo system to softly play Tchaikovsky in the background.   His shirt fell open exposing his white undershirt, giving him the appearance of a casual businessman or sexy J. Crew model.  Slowly, he swirled his wine and took a sip, savoring it as it's light and fruity taste rolled over his tongue and silkily slid down his throat.  _Damn good French wine_, he thought.

Maybe it was his posture that made him look appealing.  There had to be an explanation for the instantaneous desire that had lanced through her when she stepped into the room and found him just like that.  Legs carelessly crossed at the ankles, propped up on the coffee table, wine in hand, and a brooding expression on his face… Sydney felt the almost irrational impulse to curl up in his arms, rest her head on his shoulder, hold him around his waist and offer silent support through whatever was on his mind.

But she didn't.  Instead, she turned back to check on Maya, but hesitated mid-step.  _God, it's been so long_, she achingly looked back.  _Did it really have to be this way?_

Biting her lip, she turned aside and opened the door to Maya's room and peered in.  Tip-toeing to avoid waking her, Sydney crept up to the bedside and watched her daughter sleep.  She knelt on the carpet and let her hand brush aside Maya's brow-length bangs.  The moonlight fell across the bed in such a way that Maya seemed to glitter and glow, almost like an angel in the mist of night.  Her curls were spread out over her pillow, her chin tucked to the left toward the same teddy she fell asleep with earlier.  It was her favorite, Sydney knew, because it was from her daddy.

She planted a kiss upon Maya's forehead and straightened, studying her a moment more.

She never heard Vaughn come up behind her, but refrained from jumping when he spoke.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Because it pained her, she didn't face him.  "Yes, she is."

He moved closer… just behind her now.  She tensed, her back ramrod straight, eyes darting to her right, where she could see his wine glass in her peripheral vision.  It had been quite some time since he had stood that close to her.  In response, her pulse jumped, vibrated with life and uncertainty.

"She's ours, Syd," he whispered, laying a hand on her shoulder.  She turned toward it, wanting so much to drop her cheek and let him caress it.  "Ours.  No one can take her from us… not even Irina."

Unsure of himself, Vaughn thought to take his hand off her.  Instead, he let it slide down the length of her arm and rest at the crux of her elbow.

And slowly, he drew her closer, silently wrapping his arms around her and swaying rhythmically side-to-side with her.

Relief swamped her, swirled low in her belly and settled with hunger.  Not for food, she realized as she leaned her forehead against his cheek, but for him.  Emotions ran thick and constricted her throat, tightening it into a knot of mixed pain and longing.  

"I've missed you," she mumbled.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, and set his wine glass on top of the dresser, where Maya wouldn't be able to reach it.  Linking his hand with hers, he tugged gently.

"Come on.  Let's go to bed."

Together, Sydney and Vaughn shut the door and slipped into their own bed.  And in silence, they united, linking body and memory, heart and destiny.  Questions set aside for the night, and fears hushed until the morning, the world melted away and they remembered what it was like to be young and in love.

While neither would analyze their feelings until later, both let the tension and worry slip away with every soft moan and tender touch that spoke volumes despite their lack of verbal communication.  _Sometimes, _Vaughn thought as he tugged her tank top up over her head, _a kiss is better understood than words_.

Sydney straddled his legs and ran her hands up the length of his muscled chest and defined abs.  _One moment is all I need.  A moment to be._

**{~}**

When dawn came, the only signs of forced entry the couple would find would be an open window and slashed screen.  In the intruder's rush, the wine glass had been knocked down, the wine spilt onto the carpet, and the child's teddy bear flung and trampled among her other stuffed animals.  And their daughter, soundlessly asleep through most of the night, would no longer be in the warmth of her own bed, but elsewhere – far, far away.


	2. Family Ties

**Special Note:** O.n.E. : operation : natus e is the sequel to the 8-part series Storage Room Secrets.  Natus e is Latin, meaning "from birth" or "without birth".  It is highly recommended that you read the prequel before beginning this fic.

**Catch Phrase:** The Redeemer, Vaughn and Sydney's child.  The second prophecy begins… with O.n.E.

**Inspiring Lyrics:** "I'm sorry mama, I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to make you cry…" from "Cleaning out my closet" by Eminem

**Time:** just over 4 years after the ending of Storage Room Secrets  
  
**Setting:** Los Angeles, California  
  
**Recap:** SD-6 still alive and kicking, both Jack and Sydney continue to be double agents. Michael Vaughn still in deep-cover mission, which included a wedding complete with false wedding papers and false ceremony with attendants who believed it was a true wedding (including Will and Francie, who were honor attendants for Sydney). You can imagine what this entails: Vaughn and Syd live together, and over time their relationship/friendship has become strained due to the pressures of living together under false pretense. There are times duty and heart still war within each, which makes them question the ethics of living together and sometimes sleeping together. After that first time together, the words "I love you" have not passed from either Vaughn nor Syd. The question stands: Is all life fated? If so, this cannot be real... just a path previously set -- there are no choices... and no soulmates.****

*****From the memoirs of Michael C. Vaughn*****

_I think she blames herself.  Not that I don't feel responsible too… only that I wish she wouldn't shut me out when she feels like this.  There was a time when she ran to me and held onto me and trusted me to help her through these things… but it's no use dwelling in the past.  She forgets that Maya is half me and half her.  We're forever united in her, and it hurts me just as much as it hurts her that she's gone.  Because it's our fault.  But I won't rest until she's mine again… both mother and daughter._

_-V._

****Chapter Two: family ties****

She was crumpled on the floor, a hunched figure in the cloak of darkness.  She clutched the bear Vaughn had bought for Maya in her arms like a lifeline.  Helpless and hopeless, Sydney stared at the Little Mermaid clock on the wall as Ariel's arms marked the time.

Vaughn pushed himself off the doorjamb and removed his tie.  He opened his mouth, then closed it, unknowing or unsure of what to say.  For the first time in years, he couldn't find the words to comfort her pain.  Maybe because this is the first time they've had to share the same burden.

"I'm going to find her," he stated.

She didn't answer.  In fact, she showed no indication that she had even heard him speak.

He sighed heavily and tentatively sat down beside her.  She had hardly spoken a word to him all day.  Instead, they both had been running around the ops center notifying the CIA head director and other international relations of the missing child.  Maya's profile, information, and photograph were sent out to top government officials in the five major countries where Irina is suspected to have operational facilities.

So many times in the past, he had seen Sydney be strong when others were weak.  He had seen her succeed where others had failed, and he had seen her overcome the internal struggles that most people would crumble beneath.  He admired her for that, and for so much more.

But now… the weight was too much, the burden too great.  Circumstance had finally gotten her where it hurt the most, and Vaughn felt every bit as hollow as she did.

The monotone _tick-tock of the clock seemed to fill the expanse of the room, reverberate off each wall and pound right behind his temples in the form of a migraine.  Briefly, he closed his eyes, and just listened to the emptiness of his own heartbeat._

Next to him, Sydney sat motionless, but silent tears were running down the curve of her cheeks and she sniffled.

Vaughn swallowed hard and without looking at her, he stretched his arm out and rested it on her shoulders.

And the dam broke.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, buried her face in his chest and cried.  Like last night, words were superfluous.  The emotions warring within them bonded them together in a way that rendered words useless.

He ran his fingers through her hair and attempted to wipe away some of her tears.  He kissed the top of her head and whispered to her in French, letting the words roll of his tongue and soothe her turmoil.  "My love, do not cry.  We'll get her back.  I won't rest until she's ours again… Sydney, my love…"

**{~}**

In the meantime, Jack Bristow was meeting with Devlin.

"She waited this long, Jack," Devlin shook his head.  "We can't go through all the regular routes.  It'll take to long."

Breaking protocol, as much as Devlin hated to admit, was sometimes necessary.

"Vaughn's suggestion of sending in a team to each facility isn't practical.  We'll be wasting valuable time and energy looking in places where she's not."

"Where else could she be other than those five maximum security facilities?" Devlin smoothed the sheet out in front of him.

"She'd keep her in max security alright," Jack agreed.  "But not somewhere we'll look."

Devlin frowned as he pinpointed the countries on the map.  "The facilities are located in Pakistan, Russia, China, Germany, and Yemen."

"Irina's made no contact whatsoever." Jack mused.  "Odd."

"How so?" Devlin looked up from the map.

"Well," he stood, approached the desk and began typing in codes to pull up a specific file.  "When the assassination attempts were made on Sydney and Vaughn's life, I was contacted via my secure line."

"That doesn't mean she would follow a pattern." Devlin argued.  "She wouldn't want you to –"

The trademark Nokia ring tone interrupted his sentence.  Jack raised a brow and answered as Devlin got on his phone to order a trace on the call.

"This is Bristow."

"That's quite a lovely picture you sent of my granddaughter, Jack." a familiar voice sounded.

"Where is she?"

"Safe."

"Do I have a reason to believe you?"

"Listen, Jack.  I have about thirty seconds before this call is traced, so I'm only going to say this once."  Irina paused for dramatic effect.  "If you agree to deliver both Sydney and Vaughn into my custody, I'll give you back Maya.  You have one hour to decide."

"You expect me to choose between my own daughter and my grand—" the line went dead before Jack could complete his sentence.  "Dammit!"

Devlin shook his head, signaling they didn't get the trace.

"Get Sydney and Vaughn here ASAP." Jack barked.

**{~}**

It was three a.m. and the Los Angeles night sky was winking with starlights.  Vaughn and Sydney were dressed in deployment gear, various op tech devices attached to their suits and bodies.  

Sydney twisted the back of her diamond earring, double-checking the comms.  "Mountaineer to base 10."

"We copy, Mountaineer."

Vaughn adjusted the glasses he wore when he paraded around as Michael Varanelli, high school English teacher.  Touching the left edge of the rims on his glasses, he activated the earpiece built into the edge that was tucked behind his ear and the microphone in the bridge of the frames.

"Base 10, this is Shakespeare."

"Copy."

"Okay, guys," Kendall's voice came through.  "This exchange will not take place unless she gives the child over first."

Sydney nodded to herself, nervous and turned her attention to Jack.

"The instructions were that you two are to be the only agents present on the launch pad besides myself, and no surveillance or squad teams will be allowed in or on the surrounding buildings.  Vaughn, when Maya is released, you will hand her over to me.  Sydney and you will then approach the helicopter and get in.  Remember Irina mentioned that Maya will be wired with C-4 that is detonated by a remote control device.  The code to deactivate it will not be given to us until you are checked for parachutes and then lifted into the air."  Jack commanded.  "We've already gone over mission specs.  Do you have any questions?"

"No," Sydney's voice was hard and strangely calm.

"Fifteen minutes 'til show time, guys," Kendall said.  "Good luck."

Vaughn checked the rest of his gear and then checked Sydney's.  "We're getting her back, Syd.  No matter what."

She offered an uneasy smile in response, then caught his hand in hers and squeezed it lightly.

A loud chopper sounded in the distance, and within minutes, it appeared and began landing.

**{~}**

"Mommy!" squealed the four-year-old.

Irina smiled, a brittle smile hardened by years of a hard life.  No one would be able to soften that, not even the most beautiful bundle of energy she had ever seen since her own daughter was about this age.

"Yes, honey, that's your mommy."

"But Nana Ir'na," she made a face when she said the name.  She had such difficulty forming the word.  "You come say hi, too?"

"No, I'm not coming to say hi too."

Maya's face fell and her lower lip quivered.  "Why?"

"Because it's not time yet.  I'll come see you another time, okay?"

"Okay!" Maya, unable to distinguish or understand the good from the bad guys, threw her arms around Irina's neck and pressed a messy kiss to her cheek.

Maybe for the first time in nearly thirty years did Irina truly crack a smile.

"Say bye-bye to Uncle Sark now," she set the little girl on her feet and gave her a slight nudge in his direction.

Sark sent her a strange look.  Kids were really not his thing, and he found them to be quite annoying rather than amusing as so many seemed to do.  She stumbled forward and happily laughed when he rushed forward and snatched her up.

"You funny, Uncle Sark!"  His name was more like a lisp, but he didn't mind too much.

"You have to be careful," he said, then looked to Irina.  "Did you activate the anklet?"

She shook her head.  "You really think I'm going to wire my granddaughter with explosives?  It was a precautionary move.  The anklet's is just that – an anklet.  The only difference is, it has a combination lock that much be tapped in for it to be removed."

Sark nodded and turned his face to Maya's.  She was a pretty little thing, and she for some reason – God only knows – had taken a liking to him.  At the moment, she was busily pressing her hands on his chest and studying him earnestly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're pretty."

He blanched.  "I'm _pretty_?"

Irina laughed heartily and walked over, holding her arms out for Maya.

The girl giggled and pulled on his hair before she used one hand to turn his cheek to her and kiss it.

Awkwardly, he handed her over to Irina and patted her on the head.  "You too, kid.  You're pretty too."

"There they are," Irina's voice went soft as the helicopter hovered only feet above the launch pad.  "Bye, honey…"

Irina stepped out and let the child squirm her way out of her arms and go speeding down the length of the launch pad.  Sydney came forward two steps and Vaughn had to touch her elbow to keep her from meeting Maya halfway.  When their daughter reached them, Sydney scooped her up and rocked her, raining kisses down upon her.  Maya giggled and pushed her away.  "Mommy!  You silly!"

"Oh Maya, Maya… Hi, baby.  You okay?  I've missed you."  Tears were perilously close and Vaughn was standing directly behind her trying to get a good look at her.

"Syd," he stroked her back and let his finger caress Maya's cheek.  There was a lump in his throat and Syd squatted, putting Maya on the floor and holding her arms.

"Honey, mommy and daddy have to go on a trip."

Maya's bright smile didn't waver.  "Okay!"

"You're going to stay with Papa Jack, okay?" Vaughn knelt beside her and kissed her forehead.

"Okay, Daddy!" she moved from her mother's hands and threw her arms around his neck and squeezed.

Vaughn led her to Jack and when Jack had her in his arms, Sydney and Vaughn began jogging to the helicopter, casting backward glances to make sure she was still with Jack and still safe.

For once, Sydney pleaded silently, let everything turn out okay.

Once seated, she turned and pressed her face up against the window, watching as her daughter and father became two dots on the pad and then they were gone.


	3. Surveillance and Observations

Author: Ambrose Chavez 

**Email: agent47achavez@hotmail.com**

**Category: drama/general**

**Spoilers: S1**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Disclaimer: Alias and all related characters do not belong to me, but they're on my Christmas list!**

**Inspiring Lyric: "I'm sorry mama, I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to make you cry, but tonight, I'm cleaning out my closet."  _Cleaning Out My Closet_ by Eminem**

**Notes: Read STORAGE ROOM SECRETS first.**

* * * * *

*******Excerpt from Sydney's diary*******

The emotional roller coaster and stress that I've experienced over my years of service to this country are innumerable and immeasurable.  The worst of that culminated to willingly placing myself in my mother's custody.  I had long since shattered the mental picture I had so meticulously kept of her the day I sat before the board and my father exposed her as the KGB agent who murdered 12 CIA officers, including Vaughn's father.  Unfortunately, not only had this woman destroyed herself, she was now attempting to destroy us all… beginning with my father, followed by Vaughn, then me, and eventually, our daughter.  Perhaps this is the only time I'll acknowledge Rambaldi's prophecy as correct: this woman will render the greatest evil upon the world.

_- S._

*****Chapter three: S U R V E I L L A N C E . A N D . O B S E R V A T I O N S*****

Two days had passed, and it was slowly coming to Jack's attention that something was most certainly wrong with his granddaughter.

"And then Uncle Sark put the puzzle together with me and Nana Ir'na let me eat chocolate before bedtime, and I could stay up and play with Uncle Sark until he got tired and said I had to go to sleep, and…" she prattled on with a wistful look in her eye and a playful smile on her lips.

Almost every other word or story had been about Uncle Sark and Nana Ir'na.  He began contemplating whether or not he should have her stomach pumped to be sure Irina hadn't fed her some kind of slow-releasing poison.  Dismissing the idea as paranoia, he hefted her into his lap and asked that she look at him.

"What else happened while you were there?"

"Uncle Sark let me sleep in his room because I asked, and I gave everybody a kiss goodnight, and—"

"Who's everybody?"

"Nana Ir'na, Uncle Sark, Papa 'Lex—"

Papa 'Lex.  Great, she even met Khasinau.

"Who came and picked you up?"

"Uncle Sark," she chirped happily, a dreamy look blurring her eyes.

Oh dear God.  She had a crush on the man.  Jack raised a brow, this was certainly a development he hadn't counted on.

"Okay, well." He put her down and stood.  The LA safe house seemed so small, but it was the only modicum of solitary confinement that resembled normalcy that he could find.  Sydney's house was certainly out of the question, as was his.  This was the only place where he could monitor her under 24-hour surveillance with any assurance because this time, Jack was supervising.

Now he simply had to wait until Sydney and Vaughn managed to find out what Irina was up to and contact him for extraction.

* * * * *

Two days, one full of travel, and the other of fitful resting.  Sydney sighed and rolled her neck, trying to loosen up the muscles in it.  Vaughn caught the move and walked over, placed his hands on her shoulders and began giving her a massage.  She fought hard not to moan over it, but damn, did he know how to use his hands.

On the other side of the one-way mirror, Irina was leaning against the window frame, one hand across her stomach with her other elbow resting on it while she chewed her thumbnail lightly.  Lifting it away from her face, she smiled.

"Interesting."

"What?" Mr. Sark was bored.  He knew better than to second-guess Irina, but he wanted to simply ask what the purpose of watching them do nothing for an entire day was.

She didn't turn to him.  "Notice, Sydney doesn't ask for his help, but he offers it anyway.  In fact, he doesn't just offer it, he does it without her insistence or in spite of her lack of encouragement.  I'm not sure which."

Sark sighed.  _Pointless_, he sang in his head.

"I know you don't understand why I've chosen not to rush our initial plans, Sark." She commented.  For some reason, she always did seem to know what he thought.  "But after not seeing my daughter in over twenty years…"

Her voice trailed off.  He swung his feet off of the desk and stood.  "I need some wine.  Would you like a glass?"

"No, thank you."

Opening the door, he paused when she continued.

"Be careful, Sark.  Your love of wine could easily be mistaken for a weakness that could be used against you."

Forming a firm line with his lips, he opted not to say anything.  Instead he just left, slightly miffed at the subtle implication.

Irina continued to watch the couple as Sydney let a moan escape her and Vaughn cleared his throat at the sound.  A few moments more, one other sound of contentment and pleasure and Vaughn finally removed his hands from her.

_Can't handle the heat, Mr. Vaughn?  Don't play with fire,_ Irina bit back a smile thoughtfully.

Within the dreary four-walled room, Vaughn set his hands on his narrow hips and looked directly into the mirror.  "How long do you suppose we'll be here?"

Sydney answered.  "Who knows?  It depends on whatever Irina has in mind."

He turned to her, an unreadable look in his eye.  "What do you think that could be?"

"I'm not sure," she rubbed her neck with one hand and smiled gratefully at him.  "But thanks for the massage."

He broke eye contact by looking down and away.  A shuffle of the feet and a mumbled "No problem," accompanied his behavior and delighted Irina to no end.

Oh, the things people reveal about themselves without intending to.  Actions speak louder than words, my dear boy.  Actions speak louder than words.

Three hours later, Irina sent in team and separated the two.  Sydney was left in this room with two men to tie her down and question her while Vaughn was taken to the lab two floors up for "blood work and tests".

The change was immediate.  Sydney gave ambiguous answers, stubbornly refusing to give a non-sarcastic remark, which frustrated her interrogators.

"What do you know about the second prophecy?"

"Other than it's a load of shit?"

"Answer the question, Miss Bristow.  Or Mrs. Varanelli, whichever is your name."

"Vaughn." She stated firmly.  "My name is Sydney Vaughn."

"What do you know about the second prophecy?"  He repeated.

"That you are wasting your time attempting to fulfill some ancient dream based upon entirely non-verifiable conclusions that you have misinterpreted as leading to my daughter."

"Misinterpreted?"

"Yes." She tossed her hair out of her eyes, defiance evident in her every move.  "You got it wrong.  There is no second prophecy."

"And if I told you that there is?" he leaned forward, his face too far for a head-butt, but closer than it had been.  "What would you think then?"

She didn't tell him, rather, she showed him by spitting a disgusting mix of spit and mucous in his face.  This only enraged him and he lashed out, his hand connecting with her cheek, leaving a bright red, throbbing imprint on her face.

Sark sat up in his seat in the observation room.  Irina stiffened.  _See, this was more like it, _he set his wine glass down and attempted to hide his interest in what Sydney would do in response.  _She is definitely a fascinating creature_.

Unfortunately, Irina destroyed that possibility.  She reached over from behind him and pushed the intercom button.  "Enough."

Without looking at him, she told him to kill the interrogator.  "I told him specifically not to touch Sydney.  He disobeyed.  If he cannot follow the most basic of all instructions, his loyalty is worthless."

Nodding, Sark stood to follow his orders.

But for Vaughn, the experience wasn't quite so… pleasant.


End file.
